


Sweetness and Light

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [182]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: “We’re never doing this again,” Thor said against Loki’s mouth.





	Sweetness and Light

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Two night stand. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

“We’re never doing this again,” Thor said against Loki’s mouth.

“Fine,” Loki panted, tearing away the last of his brother’s shirt and spreading his hands over all that bare, sullen skin, “so noted.”

It wasn’t that they’d been drinking or even that they were bored; no, two months in space alone weren’t to blame, and neither was the never-ending pressure of being Asgard’s new king. It was something more complex that brought them together, something unspoken and deep rooted and sad.

Their first kiss was laced with grief; the second with shock; but the third--oh, the third--rang through with need. A need for closeness, for comfort; a need to touch, to feel something solid and familiar beneath trembling hands, hands that had never known how hungry they were to squeeze and stroke and explore.

But it was only when Thor fell back onto the bed, driven there by Loki’s ardor, held there by the weight of his body as he curled up Thor’s legs like a snake, that the matter become real to him; that he understood what was happening, what he wanted, and to his surprise, he felt no panic, no pain.

“What?” Loki asked, his face awash in flame, his fingers busy unlacing Thor’s trousers.

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring. Stop it.”

Thor lifted his arm and cupped the sharp line of his brother’s jaw, swallowed its earthquakes with his palm. “I can’t help it.” A truer statement he had never uttered. “You’re beautiful. How can I never have said so before?”

There were harsh words on Loki’s tongue, a lance, but they fell away when Thor touched his mouth, one broad thumb turning over the flush of his lips. And then Thor was opened to him, hot and eager in his hand, and his brother was gasping, the sound of an ancient storm swelling up and out of his breast, and he was so lovely, Thor; no longer a brute--had he ever been?--but a god brought willing to his knees and Loki could do naught but suck on that broad thumb and tug on that big cock and smash his brother to pieces with these simple touches, with the catch of his teeth and the flex of his fist and a fury of love in his eyes.

And then he was on his back and Thor was looming over him, kissing him, pressing the stickiness of his release between their bodies and ripping none to gently at Loki’s leggings, murmuring softly, his face stretched in a smile that Loki was suddenly determined never to see end.

“How would you have me?” Thor sighed in his ear, two fingers tucked deep inside Loki’s flesh. “Will you have me, even? I shouldn’t presume.”

Loki spread his thighs and urged Thor in further, scraped at his scalp, at the back of his neck, with blunt nails and a low, amused whine. “Ah. Now you think to ask.”

Thor chuckled and tucked the sound between Loki’s teeth, eased his tongue in after. “You could come from this, though. My fingers inside you. Your hand on your cock. I can feel it, _søthet_. How close you are.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” Another kiss, firmer now, one that had them both gasping. “But then again, perhaps you should, hmm? It’ll be easier to fuck you when you’re not so much like a vise inside.”

Loki’s head fell back and Thor chased him, not letting either of them catch their breath. “Yes,” Thor murmured. “Oh, yes. That’s exactly what’s going to happen next, isn’t it?”

“No,” Loki got out, his hips lifting to meet Thor’s hand, to thrust more firmly into his own. “No, no, no.”

“No?” Thor said softly, everywhere still where Loki vibrated. “Are you sure?”

He scraped gently at Loki’s rim, the hint of an even greater stretch, and Loki’s fist stuttered, the sound of his pleasure lost in the well of Thor’s mouth, the gentleness of his touch.

When Thor entered him, though, that reverence had faded, shoved away by need, by drives older than them both, and there was no part of Loki that wanted to resist.

“Oh my sweet,” Thor groaned when at last he was home, when they lay together truly bonded as flesh. “My sweet, I have ached for you my whole life.”

Loki’s hands were in Thor’s hair again, tugging at the short, rough spans. There was no need for words then; and even had there been, there were none on whom Loki could have laid his grasp.

Thor took him with a fierceness that surprised them both, that had them staring with some shock into each other’s faces, eyes locked as their bodies were, as their souls had always been, and when Thor’s rhythm faltered, when he dropped his head to Loki’s shoulder and let out a piteous, beautiful groan, the line that had always united them--more than blood, more than rivalry, more even than their shared past--drew tight as a bowstring and tore from them both a scream, a cry of adoration, of long-silenced desire, and yes, something like pain. The pain of all the years lost, all the time frittered away, all the hours they might have spent like this, united, cast so casually, so unknowing away.

Thor poured himself out, every last, aching spurt, and reveled in the way it softened his brother, the way it gentled his clench. He was hard again, Loki, trembling against Thor’s belly, and when they kissed again, when Thor’s body deigned to obey his commands, he raised himself on his knees and reached between them, took Loki firmly in hand.

“Don’t move,” Loki begged, his voice like a broken mirror. “Stay inside me, Thor. Please.”

A minute now, two, and Thor bit at Loki’s throat, love bites softly lathed, and Loki came again, quiet, quiet quiet, every inch of him shaking.

“ _Søthet_ ,” Thor whispered. “That is what you are, my darling. _Søthet_ and light.”

Loki kissed him, his mouth sloppy with pleasure, and said with unsteady lips and tired tongue all that his words could not.

“We’re never doing this again,” Loki murmured when they were on the edge of sleep, his head pitched over his brother’s heart. “Isn’t that what you said?”

Thor stroked the ridges of Loki’s spine and sighed, pleasantly weary. “I did. Would you hold me that?”

“That depends,” Loki said. “Would you hold yourself?”

Thor held his tongue, let the sentiment flow from his heart. “I didn’t know what I was talking about, then. I thought we were chasing only the pleasures of the flesh.”

Loki laughed softly. “You can say it straight, brother: you thought we were just going to fuck.”

“If you want to be crass about it.”

“Crass?” Loki laughed again. “Says the man who shoved his fingers in my ass.”

Thor tugged at Loki’s hair. “Upon your insistence, as I recall.”

“Perhaps. But my point stands, does it not? You thought we’d lose ourselves in each other’s bodies tonight, one time only, and that would be that.”

“I did.”

“And now?” Loki scratched gently at Thor’s side. “You think what?”

“I think,” Thor said, “that I’ve found in you something I’ve needed my whole life.” He kissed the top of Loki’s head. “Without you, sweetness, my life is quite incomplete. And, it seems, my soul too.”

Loki raised his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Huh,” Loki said, the weight of lost time all at once acute on his shoulders and featherlight, for what lay ahead of them, he could see, was not what was lost but what, at last, was now found. “Well, then. Shall I arouse you again, dear brother, or can I trust that you’ll be here when I wake?”

Thor reached up and smeared a tear from Loki’s cheek, smiled bright and ignored his own. “These are my rooms, usurper. Rest assured that here I’ll remain.”

In the morning, each thought as their lips met, as their hands found each other and held, responsibility would come, the pressures of caretaking, of state. But for now, as it should have always been, they stretched out in each other's arms and found sleep together, tangled in silken sheets damp with release and relief under the eyes of the stars.


End file.
